


With Life Comes Death

by diatribes



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan is Whipped, M/M, life and death, minor depictions of injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25706053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diatribes/pseuds/diatribes
Summary: twitter
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	With Life Comes Death

“ _I always find you here_.” Life thinks, crossing the tree line into the expansive field littered with flowers of varying sizes, colors, breeds and crossbreeds.

The field has been here eons, untouchable by the mortals who took over the earth so many years ago. A place designed by Life himself. Here, time doesn’t move. The flowers will forever remain bright and full of life, the trees will always have a dance partner in the wind that comes and go, breeze always gentle and always light. The animals that cross through, unaware of the sacred ground they cross through, will go on to live peaceful lives with painless endings.

Life embodies grace as he walks through the lively flowers, careful not to harm any of the blossoms. He’s the picture of beauty, skin sun kissed and flawless. His natural chocolatey brown hair is silver, Life having taken an interest in the ability to change the color of his hair after seeing multitudes of humans doing as such as the Earth grew and humans evolved. Having spent years upon years with the same color, the change was welcome.

The light breeze dancing through the field ruffles his shirt, a billowy cotton piece from many era’s ago Life has just never been able to part with. The sleeves are puffy, as is the rest of the blouse save for the ends of the sleeves that comfortably hug his wrists. The collar opens down into a v-shape, loose hanging strings along the edges, giving it the ability to be tied closed. 

He enjoys the feeling of the sun hitting his skin and the gentle wind that brushes against his chest too much to tie it closed.

His shirt may be loose but his pants were tight, yet another thing he picked up from the humans. His old pair were way too long and he hated the feeling of the fabric dragging across the floor. He may be timeless but his clothes certainly aren’t. He quickly got tired of having to wash away any filth that clung to the stark white fabric. So when he caught wind of the clothing phenomenon the humans called ‘skinny jeans’ he was eager to hop on board. Now his forever bottoms of choice, white skinny jeans cling to his legs, just the right amount of tightness for Life to remain comfortable as he goes about his days and nights.

Grass tickles the underside of his feet as he walks, Life spending the entirety of his existence barefoot. He tried shoes for a short while, but he hated how they felt and didn’t like how it destroyed the grass and flowers in his field so he continued on shoe less. Where his pants got dirty his feet never did, still don’t, and while it annoys him that he doesn’t know, why he won’t complain. One less thing to clean at the end of the day.

As Life travels farther into the field, he notices someone sitting in the grass, circled by a section of Belladonna.

It’s Death, Life’s other half and companion in the eternity they’re bound to share together.

He’s just sitting there, a pale hand lightly stroking the petals of the lethal flower in front of him. His head is hung low, inky black hair hiding his face away from view. Despite the warmth off the sun cascading over anything it can reach, Death is dressed for the cold. Life’s asked once before, why Death chooses to dress in such warm clothing. 

_“No matter hot the air, how close the sun, I will always be cold. Fire could encase every part of my body, heat could seep into my bones, and I would feel none of it. Coldness captured my being the moment I came into existence, and she’s unrelenting. I have always known the cold. To me, warmth is just a dream. Nothing more. Humanity does not allow me the comfort of warmth.”_

Thinking back to that memory, Life can feel his heart break ever so slightly, just like it did all that time ago. 

While Life kept pieces of his past years, like his blouses, Death gave up his old attire for more modern clothes centuries ago. A black turtle neck stretches over his chest, form fitting. He also takes part in the trend of skinny jeans, wearing a pair himself but in black. Lastly he wears a long coat, also black in color. A stark contrast to how Life presents himself.

Life has tried to get the other to wear color, but he always refuses. 

“Of all the places you could choose to spend your time, you choose the sanctuary of Life above your own.” Life calls out, only a few feet away.

Death also has his own hand-crafted space, untouchable by time. A cathedral, a structure of beauty that outshines anything the humans have ever made. Stunning Gothic architecture, pillars and arc ways everywhere. Chandeliers lit up by candles instead of electricity, reminiscent of simpler times. Velvet covered pews, expansive hallways, pieces of art Death has collected over his endless life time can be seen everywhere. Every window is a stain glass depiction of a moment in time shared by Life and Death. It’s certainly not meant for its intended use, the colors too dark for what’s meant to be a place of loving worship. But’s it’s well suited to the desires and tastes of Death. 

Death’s head shoots up instantly, his icy blue eyes locking gazes with Life. The pools of gold Life calls eyes hold his gaze, a smile forming on his lips as he gets closer. Once he’s close enough, mindful of the flowers around him, he drops onto the grass next to Death. While Death is sitting with his legs crossed and his back hunched, Life stretches out on the grass. He uses his arms to keep himself propped up, turning his head so he can look at companion.

“Hi Mark.”

* * *

_Life sighs loudly, crossing his arms over his chest. Death looks up from the chess board, plan of strategy broken by the interruption. His eye brows furrow as he takes in the sight of a pouting Life._

_“Something wrong?” Death inquires, leaning back in his seat._

_“It’s rude always referring to you as Death, don’t you think?” Death’s frown deepens._

_“But… it’s my name?” Life sighs, leaning forwards in his seat. He props his elbows up on the table, resting his head in one of his hands. The other waves around in the air as he speaks._

_“Well yeah, I know that, but it’s so impersonal. There’s more to you than just.. death. You shouldn’t be reduced to your job, for lack of better word.”_

_“So what do you suggest then?” Death tilts his head to the side, still confused with the other. There’s never a moment where Life isn’t surprising him. The two have spent forever with each other, yet Death is still intrigued by his companion. No one has ever been as caring to him as Life has._

_“A new name. Something you pick, not something that’s given to you.” Life says with a blinding smile._

_Death goes quiet. Life sits patiently, eyes never leaving the other, as he waits for what Death decides. After a while of silence and focused thinking, Death meets Life’s gaze._

_“Mark.” Life raises his eyebrows, surprised at the simplicity of the name._

_“Mark..” He repeats, trying it out. Life finds it rolls off his tongue perfectly. Mark then decides he likes the way his new name sounds, especially when Life is the one saying it._

_“Alright Mark, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Donghyuck.” Life, now Donghyuck, holds his hand out over the table._

_Mark smiles. It’s small and barely there, but it makes Donghyuck’s heart swell nonetheless. Death - now Mark - rarely smiles._

_Grasping Donghyuck’s warm hand with his cold one, he gives it a shake. The warmth is fleeting, Mark’s incurably icy hands overpowering the warmth of Donghyuck’s._

_“It’s nice to meet you, Donghyuck.”_

* * *

Mark nods at Donghyuck, before turning back to the flowers. “Hello, Donghyuck.”

Mark rarely comes here just for the sake of visiting. He’s told Donghyuck once before the amount of color is too much for him to take in all at once, that it’s a hard adjustment going from a dark color palette to a bright one. Usually he only comes to escape from something that's bothering him, So Donghyuck’s a little curious as to why he’s here now, petting his flowers with such a gentle touch.

“What are you doing here?” Donghyuck asks, threading his fingers through the grass. Mark’s always been reserved. He doesn’t speak nearly as much as Donghyuck does, he’s more of a listener. But Donghyuck can tell something is up, he’s been with the man as long as he can remember. Mark can’t hide anything from him.

Mark’s hand stills, his whole body unmoving. “I can go if you want me too..” He mutters out, the feeling that he's intruding instantly filling Mark's body.

Donghyuck’s eyes widen and he sits up, turning towards Mark while scooting closer.

“I don’t mind that you’re here! It’s just, you hardly ever visit. Usually we see each other elsewhere. I’m just surprised to see you that’s all. I wanna make sure everything is alright.”

Another perk of knowing each other as long as they have, Mark is more willing to open up now than he was when they first met. Mark used to be cruel to Donghyuck, upset with the cards he was dealt and envious of the ones Donghyuck got.. No one _wants_ to be Death. Despite Mark’s cruelty, Donghyuck was nothing but nice. No matter how mean Mark would get or how hard he’d push Donghyuck away. Neither of them have anyone else to turn to, so they had to make it work. It took a while, but slowly Mark started to warm up to Donghyuck. 

Nowadays Mark is more willing to confide in Donghyuck than he used to be. Sometimes it still takes him a while to give in and say what’s wrong, that’s just how he is, but in the end he always does.

Mark lifts a hand from the flowers, running it through his messy ink colored hair. He chews on his bottom lip, a nervous habit he picked up after his first couple of soul walks and hasn’t been able to stop. Donghyuck grabs his other hand, holding it tightly. Mark’s eyes flick down to where their hands are touching, staring at the contrast in skin tone. Mark’s hand is impossibly pale, much like the rest of his skin. Lifeless and dull where Donghyuck’s skin reminds him of soft caramel candies and honey, so beautiful and soft to the touch.

“Please, Mark.” Donghyuck lightly begs, not wanting Mark to continue wallowing in whatever it is that’s obviously eating away at him.

Mark sighs, freeing his bottom lip from the abusing bite of his teeth. He moves his thumb back and forth, gently caressing the skin across the back of Donghyuck’s hand, finding comfort in the touch.

“A soul walk I had today was… rough.”

A soul walk is the name Mark gave to the process of guiding newly deceased souls to their final destination of either Heaven or Hell. The creation of Grim Reapers came quickly after Mark realized he couldn’t guide every soul by himself to Heaven or Hell as their time came to an end. With the Reapers out there he doesn’t necessarily have to continue doing soul walks, but he continues to do so to keep the familiarity of his once constant routine around.

“There was an car accident, two girls. Sisters actually, one significantly older than the other. They got hit by a drunk driver who was going well over a hundred. The drunk driver hit the drivers side of their car, sent it spinning. When I got there the car was flipped over, glass and blood everywhere. The younger girl was getting wheeled into the ambulance, badly hurt but still alive. Lucky to be alive even, the crash was horrific.” Mark stops there for a moment, trying to shake away the vivid images of the crash that are lingering in his head. Running his free hand over his face, he continues.

“The older one was standing off to the side behind the paramedics tending to her sister, screaming. Except they couldn’t hear her. When I approached and she finally noticed me, she became hysterical. Most of the time I have to explain what happened to them, but she knew. I mean, how could she not? Her body was in the middle of the road, mangled and almost unrecognizable as a person. She got thrown out the front window.”

Donghyuck sucks in a breath, surprised. Mark doesn’t often tell him about his soul walks, having said before he wants to preserve the bountiful amount of happiness and innocence Donghyuck has.

“She started screaming at me, telling me to get away from her. She knew she was dead, but it wasn’t until I got close enough to touch her arm did she really believe her life was over. She shoved me away, begging me to let her live, that she was the only person her little sister had left and that she was her guardian. That without her, her sister would be alone and she promised to never leave her all alone..” Donghyuck moves around so he’s closer to Mark, knee to knee with the gatekeeper of death. He takes both of Mark’s hands into his own, running his thumbs along Mark’s icy skin, hoping to ground the other at least a little bit.

“All I could do was apologize. She kept begging and pleading, but I couldn’t let her stay. I can’t give people a second chance, if they die they die. Sometimes I have to forcefully make them leave. The newly deceased only have so much time to be put on the path to Heaven or Hell before they get stuck on Earth. She was running out of time and I knew she would be put on the path to Heaven, I couldn’t let her condemn herself to an eternity on Earth. To watch her sister carry on without her, to be surrounded by people who will never acknowledge her, it would drive her insane. It drives all of them insane eventually.” Mark drops his head towards his chest, a shuddering breath being drawn into his body and quickly released.

He’s been doing this job a long time now, he’s seen it all. But even Death has humanity. With that humanity comes the soul walks that leave a lasting scar, a memory forever imprinted in his mind.

“When I grabbed her by the arm again she started hitting me. Dragging her nails down my arms, smacking my chest, desperately trying to get away from me.” Donghyuck can’t help but glance down at Mark’s sweater covered chest. Both of have the ability to get hurt, to bleed and feel pain, it comes with the humanity, meant to bring them closer with the humans they work over. The pain never lasts, however, not the physical pain at least. They’re immortal. Even if she did leave scratches and bruises they would be healed by now.

“I had to pick her up and throw her over my shoulder. She fought me the entire time, clawed and beat my back. By the time I brought her to Heaven’s Gate, she lost all fight. When I set her down she just let herself collapse at the base of the gate. She looked at me with so much hate. I told her I was sorry. I didn’t know what else to say. She told me she hated me. It’s not the first time someone has told me that they hate me, but she said it with so much conviction. I can’t stop thinking about it. The look on her face, in her eyes. It won’t go away.” Mark finally looks up at Donghyuck. Death can’t cry, that’s not a part of humanity they were granted, but Donghyuck know’s that if he could cry Mark would be sobbing.

Donghyuck, still holding Mark’s hands, stands. He forces Mark to stand with him and once the other has gathered his footing Donghyuck lets go of his hands and throws his arms around Mark’s shoulders, burying his face into the other’s neck. Mark goes stiff immediately, surprised by the sudden contact. He’s never been one for touching but he knows Donghyuck is so he doesn’t protest against minor contact here and there. Sometimes he’s the one initiating hand holding or he’s the one who sits as close as he can, seeking comfort from the bright presence Donghyuck emits. But never, in all the eons they’ve been together, have they hugged.

Donghyuck quickly learned that Mark wasn’t that big a fan of physical contact, so he told himself that he would never initiate such intimacy with the other lest Mark ask for it or be the one to instigate the contact. But Donghyuck can tell that in this moment, Mark needs more comfort that hand holding just can’t give him.

“Hug me back, Mark.” Donghyuck grumbles, voice muffled by Mark’s neck. The feeling of Donghyuck’s warm but fleeting breath on his neck is what brings him back to reality. Mark snakes one arm around Donghyuck’s waist, crushing the other against his body in an almost brutally tight hug. His free hand reaches up and threads through Donghyuck’s hair, stopping at the the back of his head, gently holding his head where it resides against Mark’s neck.

Mark lifts his hand as Donghyuck starts to move his head around, going back to where it was when Donghyuck’s moved enough so he can speak to Mark and be heard without having to completely move his head of Mark’s shoulder.

“Why do people love me, but hate you?” Donghyuck asks softly, his fingers running through the black strands at the base of Mark’s hair. Mark can’t help but melt ever so slightly in Donghyucks’s hold.

“Because,” Mark starts, a quiet sigh leaving his mouth following the word, “you’re a beautiful lie and I’m a painful truth.”

Donghyuck hugs him a little tighter.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/neocitii)


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